


Carry You

by BlameMyMuses



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlameMyMuses/pseuds/BlameMyMuses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You don't know what Hell is, until you've had to carry your best friend away from it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carry You

He is heavy against your back, his arms slung around on either side of your neck, his face pressed against the side of yours. You feel his presence like another heartbeat against your shoulders. You duck as another curse flies towards you. The battle is raging on, but you have to get him away from the fray. He’ll be trampled if you don’t. You fire another spell of your own, hear a cry as someone goes down, and fight on.

You duck another flash of green light, and your feet slip in the blood of the battlefield and you hit your knees. Only adrenaline lets you find your feet again, and as you cast hex after hex, you can feel them weakening.

You have to get him off the field. He’ll be hurt if you don’t.

The doors of Hogwarts are looming, and you stumble, the rise of the steps making an easy target of you. Your heart is pounding, breath is coming short, and you are gasping as you make it through. You veer towards the Great Hall. Somewhere nearby you know Madame Pomfrey is trying to help the wounded, and you have to get him to her before its too late.

And--there. Her usually crisp white apron is ruined, and she looks nearly as drained as you.

His feet are dragging as you rush across the hall but his weight means nothing despite your exhaustion. She looks up, sees you, sees your burden.

“Put him down,” she says, and you do, but don’t move away. You’re gripping his hand still, but he isn’t gripping back.

“Please,” you choke, voice cracking. “He’s my best friend, I--”

She’s checking his pulse the muggle way, no energy to spare on basic diagnostic spells. She’s checking it for an awfully long time. At last she looks up, and shakes her head.

You start shaking yours, as well. “No,” you say. You can still feel him, his heartbeat, his magic. He wouldn’t leave you like that.

“I’m sorry, George,” she says. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

It’s the first time in your life that “you” has meant just one.

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted to my Tumblr (blame-my-muses).


End file.
